


Mead Truths

by TellMeNoAgain



Series: So Much Trouble [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Asguardian Mead Is Dangerous, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fix-It, M/M, Not Beta Read, Power Imbalance, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: Read elsewhere in the series at your own risk.This one?  This one is just some fun.~~~“No no no no no,” says Mr. Stark, shaking his head.  “I did not just hear those words.  This is a monumentally bad decision, who- and again, wait- is- is that my intern with a glass of Asguaradian mead?”“Hi, Mr. Stark!” calls Peter sunnily.  “Come sit- sit down, here, you can have m’chair!”  He attempts to stand and then mumbles, “Woops,” as the room spins a little and he has to sit back down.Mr. Stark sighs and says, “Stay down, Peter.  PR.  Armageddon.”
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: So Much Trouble [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562707
Comments: 22
Kudos: 150





	Mead Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read because I posted before I made friends.
> 
> Let me know and I can add more tags and warnings.
> 
> NOT ENDGAME COMPLIANT. (Let's be real here, this AU is barely MCU compliant.)
> 
> For completionists, DEAD DOVE warning, this series is going to be D/s Starker.
> 
> For prudes, these are fictional characters and I've double checked, no one actually has a skeevy real-life relationship as a result of this series, so, like, relax. No one is going to get hurt. No one even really got _drunk._

“Oh, fuck, _this_ is the PR nightmare I’ve been having for the last few months,” swears Mr. Stark violently, entering the bar and surveying the scene. “Who the fuck- no, wait, what the fuck are you _drinking_ ?”  
  
“Mead,” states the Captain, definitively. Peter gives a little giggle, he wants to call it a manly chuckle but it’s totally a giggle, at the Captain’s glare in Mr. Stark’s direction.  
  
“Asguardian mead, first batch on this Earth soil,” corrects Thor, “I do believe I prefer it.”  
  
“No no no no no,” says Mr. Stark, shaking his head. “I did not just hear those words. This is a monumentally bad decision, who- and again, wait- is- is that my intern with a glass of Asguaradian mead?”  
  
“Hi, Mr. Stark!” calls Peter sunnily. “Come sit- sit down, here, you can have m’chair!” He attempts to stand and then mumbles, “Woops,” as the room spins a little and he has to sit back down.

Mr. Stark sighs and says, “Stay down, Peter. PR. Armageddon.” He’s making his way to their table in the back, walking past empty bar stools and booths, tapping them nervously with his fingers. He’s so hot, wearing a full suit, did he fly here in it? Peter thinks he must have and wonders which Iron Man suit he wore. Unless maybe he took another Quin? That would also make sense.  
  
“What?” snorts Bucky. “The kid’s old enough to be on the team but can’t, can’t relax a little?”  
  
“You shut up, I know for a fact that you should not be drinking, your brain is _missing pieces,_ there is no way your doctor is okay with it,” Mr. Stark retorts quickly.  
  
“I’m a doctor,” protests Dr. Banner. He considers Bucky for a moment and offers, “‘S probably ok.”

“And you have a gigantic green rage monster just below your surface, you should definitely- what in the world, okay, who the fuck said this was a good idea?”  
  
All hands point to the Captain, who looks up at Mr. Stark and raises a single eyebrow. Peter would love to be able to do that on command. He should- he should totally practice it. “We’re taking one day for science,” the Captain says confidently. “For one day, the rest of you can figure it out. Today, all us enhanced or whatever-” he waves a hand at the small group of people slouching in chairs around the table- “we’re taking a day.”  
  
“Izza new holiday,” slurs Dr. Banner, nodding. “Jus’ made it up. July- July 10th. Our holiday for us freaks.”  
  
“I offered to inebriate them,” says Thor proudly. “They were skeptical but I believe I have accomplished my goal!”  
  
Peter tilts his head back to look up at Mr. Stark. He has to look up and up, Mr. Stark is right behind him, a hand on his chair. Mr. Stark frowns down at him and Peter thinks that’s hilarious even if he can’t quite put his finger on why. Something about being naughty and being caught, though.

“Science!” says Bucky to Dr. Banner, and they smash their mugs together and take another deep drink.  
  
“That’s quaffing,” Peter tells Mr. Stark, in case he didn’t know. “Thor says you don’ drink mead, you quaff it.”  
  
“S great data,” Dr. Banner tells Tony. “Made ev’body wear monitors.”  
  
Everyone nods and points to one of the five monitors around their bodies.   
  
“No blood samples, though,” says Peter sadly. Dr. Banner pats him clumsily on his shoulder.  
  
“This is,” hisses Mr. Stark, “the worst idea. The rest of you are idiots, although you make an excellent point about taking a day off, Rogers. But my in- Peter is Pepper’s ward right now and he is-”  
  
“Lissen to you,” hoots Dr. Banner. “You- you- have y’even read y’r own biography? Tone, you were- you weren’t sober until you were like, _last year_!”  
  
“And in all that time, I was never a ward of Pepper Potts. She is going to eat you all alive if this leaks.”  
  
The men exchange glances.  
  
“For science?” suggests Bucky. “Would she, I mean, it’s for science. We needed to know if it would affect us.”  
  
“It does!” interjects Peter. He tips his head back to smile at Mr. Stark, and catches the man’s lips twitching. “I feel so weird.”  
  
“It’s a variable rate,” starts Dr. Banner, “It’s not standard, there’s- I’ve had as much as Bucky and there is noticeable impairment. Like, measurable, my eye-hand is shit right now and I think Peter just tried to stand up and _fell down_ . And Bucky’s like Thor, and Steve is kinda- I mean, I need to look at his data-”  
  
“Oh, I’m affected,” says Steve calmly, his eyes watching Mr. Stark tilt his head and purse his lips. Peter loves those lips, he tries not to think about them but there they are. Right there. “It’s hitting me. Probably as much as Bucky, if I had to guess.” Bucky nods slowly. Dr. Banner makes a note on the napkin beside him, humming happily at this additional data.  
  
“We are quite safe here,” says Thor, his voice just a trifle condescending. “I had spoken to the owner to arrange for this opportunity.”  
  
“You planned this?” says Mr. Stark, incredulously. “You- this was not just some spur-of-the-moment, this was planned?”  
  
“Uh,” says Bucky, “We’re in _Finland_ . I think.”  
  
“No, Norway,” Peter argues.  
  
“Sweden?” asks Dr. Banner. “I- I think this’s Sweden.”  
  
“It’s Denmark,” Mr. Stark says, sighing. “You’re in Denmark, in a bar, drunk.”  
  
“Drunk as lords,” says Vision, from the booth where he is stretched out. “Hello, Mr. Stark.”

“Vis, what the fuck is happening?”  
  
“Exactly what appears to be happening,” Vision shoots back. “Your teammates challenged Thor’s assertion that he could, in fact, inebriate them. And once the experiment began, Dr. Banner encouraged its continuation for rather dubious scientific merits. I am their designated adult for the evening.”  
  
All of the heads nod enthusiastically. Thor points to Vision and says, “Yes! Good man!”  
  
“Dubious?” mumbles Dr. Banner.  
  
“This data is great,” Peter reassures him happily. “Can’t wait to get back to the lab.” He smiles up at Mr. Stark again, and this time the lips curl into a smirk, his favorite look.

“Drunk as lords,” murmurs Mr. Stark, lips twitching. “Well, hell.”

“Th’door was locked,” points out Peter. “I think- should lock it ‘gain. Paparazzi.”

“Excellent point, young Peter,” groans Vision, rising to do so. 

Mr. Stark says, “You flew to Denmark to get my intern drunk.” It’s not a question when he says it like that, it’s an indictment.

“Team-building,” says Bucky, after the longest quaff ever, when no one is making eye contact. “‘S’traditional, drinking in a bar in Europe, f’r me and Steve, anyway.”

The Captain unbends enough to throw him a fist and they bump. “Truth,” says the Captain, and then he blinks, quaffs, and continues, “I mean, he fights like a man, risks his life like a man, has all the responsibilities of a man, only right he should get some of the, of the fun, too. Th’good stuff. Dancing, stuff like that.”

“He dances with Natasha,” grits Mr. Stark through his teeth.

“Righ’, righ’, but y’get what he’s sayin’,” slurs Bucky. 

Peter attempts a quaff, emboldened by all the support, but Mr. Stark reaches forward and plucks it out of his grip, holding it just above Peter's head. “No quaffing,” he says firmly. Peter twitches and says, “No, but listen, I have to finish this mug or the data won’t align. I-I can be done after this one though,” he offers.

Bruce nods. “Yeah, don’t mess up our science, Tone.”

Mr. Stark looks about to say something cutting, but then sighs when Peter reaches up a hand to clasp the mug. “Team-building,” he murmurs.

“Freak Festivus,”agrees Bruce, blinking up at him.

Peter giggles again and then says, “Mr. Stark,” in a whine. “Mr. Stark.” It’s fun and funny, he hasn’t ever whined like this in his life. Well, maybe with MJ and Ned.  
  
Mr. Stark shakes his head, eyes darkening with, like, disapproval.   
  
Peter finds it hilarious, he knows he shouldn’t but he does. “I went to Titan, for like, for all of humanity,” he teases the man, “And I can’t _buy a pack of cigarettes_ . I can’t- look, I can’t even, if I wanted to have s-sex, that would be illegal, and I went to _Titan_ . For humanity.”  
  
Vision says, into the weighted silence that fills the room as everyone considers his statement, “A point of distinction, young Peter, you _could_ have sex with someone your own age.”  
  
“Ew,” laughs Peter, tugging on the mug. “I don’t think so. Well, maybe Liz, she was- she was team captain, that could be okay. C’mon, Mr. Stark, for science? We’re so safe here, Thor, there’s no cameras, Cap said it wouldn’t hurt, please?”  
  
“They have rooms upstairs arranged, as we have no idea what the hangover will look like,” interjects Vision. “I’m hoping it’s vicious.”  
  
“Hey!” comes from several directions, as Bucky and Cap and Bruce all object to that idea. Peter is too busy watching Mr. Stark’s face. There’s something about asking for his permission, it’s warming Peter, asking his permission for this thing that is illegal, technically, and also ridiculous, totally. This is a science experiment, there’s, there’s applications to this research, and it’s not, it’s not like he’s at a _rave_. They’re sitting at a _table_ in an _empty room_. This isn’t even, Peter can go drink alcohol anywhere, at any time, but he is loving this moment, his hand next to Mr. Stark’s on the mug, waiting for permission. He’s so twisted, this is definitely not normal. He's not stopping, though. It's not hurting anyone. No one has to know.

“You’d be a hypocrite,” warns Bruce. It’s the worst thing to say, Peter almost had the mug, and he can feel Mr. Stark’s defenses twitch to life. _Dammit, Bruce._

“We’re trying to do better by him,” snarls Mr. Stark through gritted teeth. “We’re trying to not let him make the same mistakes-”  
  
“Tone, this is _so far_ from your heydey,” laughs Bruce. He waves around the deserted bar. “This is a controlled experiment. There are varia’bles, not hookers.”  
  
Vision sighs and says, “Sir, he does have several good arguments. We’re right here. He’s safe.”  
  
Peter’s head is still tilted back so he catches the moment when they win, a little twitch of Mr. Stark’s mouth, a loosening of his grip, and he says, “See? See?” and he grabs the mug and quaffs. “I toldja, ‘sokay.” He beams up at Mr. Stark. “You should stay. You can help!”  
  
“Oh, I’m staying,” assures Mr. Stark, finding an empty chair and pulling it to the table, between Cap and Peter. “This is the most insanely stupid thing you’ve- any of you- have ever done, I’m staying. You may be able to get around the paparazzi but Pepper is going to kill you if any of this leaks, and I’m staying.”

Peter holds up his mug for bumps and everyone bumps, Thor shouting, “Skold!” and Bucky, “Slainte.” They all quaff and then beam at each other, good mood restored after the small interruption.  
  
“You should totally have sex, Peter,” says Bucky, clearly stuck on all the things Peter can’t do. “It’s the best. Cigarettes, eh, but sex? Yes.”

“Stop pressuring,” remonstrates Steve in a voice that says he’s had to have this talk with Bucky a lot.  
  
“I can’t even vote,” Peter tells Bucky, seriously. “I can- I can save the world, but I can’t help pick an alderman for my district.”

Bucky squints, “A what?”  
  
“Oh, civics, they’re a, I just took a test, they like, they decide stuff, but like, it’s small stuff,” babbles Peter, and then he takes a small quaff to cover that he knows the words but not the actual duties.  
  
“Oh,” says Bucky. “Well, okay, that sucks.”

“It does,” agrees Peter, relieved no one is going to like, quiz him on that explanation.  
  
“But not for much longer,” puts in the Cap in a bracing tone of voice.  
  
“Yeah,” sighs Peter. “Just a few more weeks and I can fuck and vote and smoke and, well, not drink, not legally, _that_ is so messed up.” He scowls, and takes a mini-quaff of his mead in retaliation for that universal unfairness.

“You shou’n’t smoke,” Bruce tells him. “We have _no_ idea what your spider spit will do with, like, lung cancer, you should def’n’tly avoid cancer. No smoking.”  
  
Peter sighs, “Yeah, okay, tha’s, tha’s not really on my list, anyway.”  
  
“But fucking is, yeah?” asks Bucky hopefully. “You should, it should be on there. It’s the _best_.”

Peter nods, “It’s on there,” he slurs.   
  
“That is my next PR nightmare,” puts in Mr. Stark, and Peter’s head lolls to one side to look at him. “When you find the person that you want to date, you let Pepper know, minimally, okay, Peter? We’re already quashing all the idiots coming forward with ‘I fucked SpiderMan’ stories with some frankly very terrifying investigators with zero sense of humor, but once you hit 18, those investigators go away and then it’s harder to control the flak. When you’re ready, we have to be PR ready, too.”

Peter’s jaw has dropped. “O-okay, Mr. Stark,” he breathes. “Fuck, I didn’t even-”

“If you fall in love,” says Steve slowly, carefully enunciating every word, “you tell the whole world to fuck off, Peter, and you do whatever you both want. Fuck them. Fuck PR.”  
  
The air above the table fills with the memories- the stories- of Peggy Carter.

The whole room, maybe the whole world, is silent as Steve takes a long swallow from his mug.

Then Mr. Stark clears his throat and chides, “Language, Mr. Rogers,” and the tension breaks up and everyone is laughing again. It’s the first time Peter has ever heard the Captain swear. He didn’t even know Steve knew words like that.

Bucky starts telling a story about a time he took two dames to the cinema only to discover they enjoyed sitting side-by-side rather than on either side of him, if you take his meaning, and they’re all laughing because he’s a good storyteller. Mr. Stark follows this up with a story about a time he was invited into a threesome with a couple of grad students in college, but didn’t know that he was being invited to a threesome, he genuinely thought the boyfriend-girlfriend duo were asking him to work on _robots_ , and even the Captain is howling with laughter as he describes the final confusing moments of that evening. They finish their mugs and hang around for another hour, telling stories that just flow from one person to the next, and Peter has never felt so connected to other people in his life.

Eventually, Bruce asks Thor how much longer the buzz is going to last, and when he says, “I am uncertain, usually the feasting on Asguard lasts days,” everyone groans. Tony orders pizza through one of the New York office PA’s, and goes to the door when it arrives, bringing back to the table a truly jaw-dropping amount of pizza. They demolish it, and then Steve and Bucky pull out a pack of cards and announce they’re teaching Peter how to play poker.  
  
It’s a fun game but he can’t really pay attention, because Mr. Stark is leaning back in his chair and resting one arm along the back of Peter’s and he knows it’s just his crush but he’s distracted, okay? He’s distracted. He loses and Mr. Stark murmurs, “Some genius,” and Bruce defends him by saying, “He’s tipsy!” and Mr. Stark counters with, “I took Vegas when I was so drunk I couldn’t stand straight, three times,” and Bruce concedes the point by shaking a finger at Peter and saying, “You’re holding back.” 

Peter shrugs, he probably is, but he doesn’t care. The afternoon has faded into evening, and if this is team building, it’s working. He’s never felt this close to these men- any men- in his life, and he can see all the talking has physically drawn even Vision closer to the table. They’ve laughed more in the last three hours than he’s seen any one of them laugh in the months- years- he’s known them.  
  
“This’s a great idea,” he tells Thor, as Mr. Stark gives Bucky shit for shuffling one-handed just to show off.  
  
Thor looks back at him and says quietly, “I know.” There’s something in his eyes that looks thousands of years old, and it arrests Peter’s attention. He always forgets that Thor is a _god_.

"Oh," he replies, and he could kick himself, why can't he ever come up with anything better than just, _oh?_

 _"_ This is a time-honored tradition, among my people," Thor says, voice still quiet, with an almost gentle smile. "I am happy to give you your first taste of Asguardian mead, Peter Parker, Spider-Man."  
  
"Th-thank you," says Peter.  
  
"There is no need to thank me, tonight has made us shield-brothers in truth," Thor assures him.  
  
"Oh," says Peter, and seriously, he needs to get a grip and find his language, it's been awhile since his last quaff.

Thor suddenly stands and announces, "Come, there is enough of the keg left for shots! Tony Stark, Vision, you will also do them, for we are shield-brothers and tonight we honor the traditions of Asguard!"  
  
Tony sighs and Vision says, "It will not affect me," in an apologetic tone of voice.

"It is of no matter," Thor assures him, walking to the bar to grab shot glasses. "Tradition must be satisfied. How can I drink knowing my shield-brothers do not?"

"Peer pressure is so 1975," Tony informs him, as he pours the shots from the nearly-empty barrel.

"I do not understand," Thor tells him gravely, and Steve says, "Oh, I got that one, I understood that reference, Buck?" And Bucky shakes his head. Peter snorts because they are adorable.

"Nevermind, I think I can handle a shot," Tony sighs. "For the team?"  
  
"For the team," replies Vision. Bruce giggles.

They all take a shot and mimic Thor, who holds it aloft and says, "To we lucky few, the Shield-Brothers of the Avengers!"  
  
Peter watches everyone slide the shot to their lips and down their throats, and follow suit only a heartbeat behind. Mr. Stark gasps and makes the funniest expression and then sits down, hard, in his seat and whispers, "That's what you've been drinking?" in a tone of horror.

Thor looks down at him and claps him on the shoulder and says, "Yes, Tony Stark, prince of Earth. This is the Mead of Asguard."  
  
"Am I drunk?" Tony asks Bruce. "I feel like- one shot- one single shot, am I drunk already?"

"Here, blow in this," Bruce offers, handing him a breathalyzer. Tony blows, and an alarm goes off, and Thor chuckles and says, "Not lightly did I offer you a shot, Tony Stark. You will be well."

Mr. Stark rests his head in his hands, propped up on the table, and says, "Oh my God, Pepper is going to kill all of us, but me especially, you asshole."  
  
"I will keep you all in hand," Vision assures him. "That was the original intent of my presence and why I agreed to be parted from Wanda for the evening."

Mr. Stark glances over at Peter, his expression odd and indecipherable, and then mutters, "You do that, Vis. Just- just watch me, ok? Make sure I don't-"  
  
Vision nods and says, "Yes, Mr. Stark. I am well aware of the parameters you refer to as 'Drunk Laws' and will gladly take up my old role in assisting you to follow them."

"Good. Grea'ness," huffs Mr. Stark, and then he reaches for the deck of cards again. "'m dealing. Parker, you- you pay attention and _stop losin'_ , I can't believe you're a cert'fied genius."  
  
Peter perks up. He does like a challenge. "Yessir," he slurs. It's just a matter of- a matter of probability, really, the cards. He can do that.

Everyone else shifts in their chairs and the game is back on. Even Bucky seems more sharply interested, now that Mr. Stark has thrown the gauntlet and Peter has taken it up. Peter hopes they can play for hours yet, he feels fresh and light and knows that nights like these, well, they're not going to get a whole bunch of them, are they?  
  
He's so glad Thor made this happen, when he came to the Compound on a regular visit and asked Peter how his first mission had gone over dinner. He's so glad he was honest and said some of what he was feeling. Mr. Stark was right, everyone on this team has something they do that's stupid, and someone else- multiple someones, in this case- who can help fix it.

This is pretty much the best night ever. And he wins not having to unload the dishwasher for a month from Bucky which is pretty much worth it's weight in gold, as far as Peter is concerned.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to pop into the comments with encouragement, this is one work that is probably done except for minor tweaking, though, just a fun one-shot plotweasel that's been bounding around my brain. I won't handle criticism well, unless you and I have a baseline understanding, so I guess keep that to yourself or tell a friend, whichever one you want to do. Thanks for reading!


End file.
